Crumb
by RonaldAndMione
Summary: And then he saw periwinkle blue. Ron liked that shade of blue very much.


**Crumb**

**Rating: K+**

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**AHHH! YES! FINALLY! YES!**

**I am now FINALLY able to publish stories again! I'm SO sorry I haven't published for awhile! There was an error everytime I selected the category my story was in, and it was going on for a week. I emailed fanfiction twice about it. And now, FINALLY I am able to publish. I was driving my friends insane, and even wrote a small story about my anger. (That's an original work, so no, it won't be published on here. :P) **

**I was, however, able to read your reviews, which are still coming in for my other pieces. And I feel so happy when I read them. Thank you so much for that! :) I was also able to write, and have finished another story, am halfway through a small series of one-shots, and am beginning a multi-chapter fic, although it'll be awhile before you see it. I'm planning on posting more of my stories over the next few days, to make up for lost time, so stay tuned :)**

**This story I wrote awhile ago, and it's kind of angsty, but I did like the idea, which was Ron feeling like a crumb, but not like Krum. I was thinking about making it 'Romance/Angst' but I don't think it's sad enough to be considered angst. I might be wrong though. For now, it's Romance/Hurt/Comfort, even though there's not really any comforting.**

**Now, on with the actual story. :P**

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The entire time he had been thinking, "She's lying." He had fooled himself into believing that fantasy. Because he couldn't believe the alternative.

Hermione Granger going to the ball with someone other than him.

Ron had realised that he felt differently to Hermione than a friend should. He was still in the stage of denial though. He tried to come up with a logical explanation to his eagerness to go the ball with her (_She's a friend, I know I'll have a good time with her_), or his constant thinking about her (_I'm her friend, it's my obligation to know whether she's alright or not_!), or his frequent thoughts about how pretty she is (_So what if I think she's pretty? Friends can think that about each other…_).

And yet the very thought of her going with someone else was incomprehensible. Hermione holding another's arm, Hermione laughing at someone else's jokes. He was the funny one in Hermione's life. If Hermione found someone else to make her laugh, what would he be?

Nothing.

A measly little Weasley.

A crumb.

That final word was the word that would haunt him forever.

Hermione hadn't been lying.

She had been invited to the ball by someone else.

By Viktor Krum! His idol… well, former idol now.

And the way Ron found out was awful. He had been expecting Hermione to be in her room crying about the fact that no one had asked her. Technically that wasn't true; after all, he had asked her… Ron tried to ignore the flaw in his theory.

Ron walked down the stairs, his head down. He was trying to hide his face, so that no one would know it was him wearing those awful dress robes. Although that was also pointless. His vivid red hair would give him away anyway. Ron once again cursed at the fact he was a redhead.

He tilted his head up very slightly, so he could see the feet of the people up ahead. This way, he would know if he was about to bump into someone. He saw some beautiful fabrics – a lovely pale green, a deep red, a bright purple.

And then he saw periwinkle blue.

Ron liked that shade of blue very much. It was his second favourite colour after Chudley Canons orange. Ron decided to quickly look up to see who was wearing it, and then look back down again. He only managed to do half.

He couldn't look back down.

He couldn't look away at all.

He couldn't do anything except stare in amazement and wonder. He couldn't even breathe.

Hermione was beautiful.

Ron almost didn't recognize her at first. But it was her. The beautiful brown eyes, the gorgeous hair - the hair that wasn't bushy anymore. Ron realised he actually missed the bushiness, although he liked this style very much too. The blue dress framed her perfectly, and Ron noticed that she had quite a good figure. Her posture was amazing, one of confidence, although Ron knew her well enough to know that she was nervous – her smile showed it.

Ron noticed all these things.

But he also realised something else – something far more shocking.

He fancied Hermione Granger.

It was obvious – so obvious even Ron could see it. Ron wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her petite figure and kiss her. But then he saw that someone else had already beaten him to one of those things – he could see an arm around her waist.

Ron managed to tear his eyes away from Hermione and look at who was next to her.

Viktor Krum.

And Ron's joy at seeing Hermione so breathtaking plummeted down. Hermione was here with Viktor Krum. Viktor Krum fancied her. Hermione would obviously choose Viktor Krum over him any day.

Ron had never felt so miniscule in his life.

He was a crumb.

But he wasn't Krum.

And that hurt. It hurt a lot. To suddenly realise he wanted something so much it was almost unimaginable, and to have it taken away right after.

And suddenly he felt angry. Angry at Krum for taking Hermione away from him. The monster in his chest roared in anger, and he felt like marching over and punching Krum, in order to satisfy that monster.

He was also angry at Hermione for going to the ball with Krum, instead of him. He imagined himself dancing with Hermione, her arms around his neck, his around her waist, and the monster immediately calmed down and appreciated the false vision, until realizing it wasn't real, and roaring uncontrollably once more.

And so he watched, half in awe at how beautiful Hermione was, and half in anger and jealousy at Krum. Watched them dance, and laugh, and watched Hermione teach Krum how to pronounce her name. (_That lousy git doesn't even know how to say her name right! It's a brilliant name! If he's lucky enough to have that girl by his side he should at least know her name! Her-my-oh-nee… _my_-oh-nee… yeah Krum, get your hands off her… she's mine_!)

He had vowed he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing he cared who she went to the ball with.

And by the end of the night, he was rowing with her. That was the only thing he could do. The only thing that was normal to him anymore. And then, as they entered the common room, both red in the face (_Hermione still looks beautiful even when she's angry!_), Hermione shouted at him:

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before someone else does! And not as a last resort!"

_Way to go Weasley. She _certainly_ doesn't know you care who she went to the ball with._

After Hermione marched up the girls dormitory stairs, Ron turned around and went to his room too. Sitting down on his bed, he shook his head wildly, as if that would get rid of all the thoughts and feelings rushing through his head. He just couldn't get rid of the image of how beautiful Hermione looked, or the image of how Vicky had his arms around her.

Ron looked over at his dresser and saw the figure of Viktor Krum standing proudly. Ron picked it up and glared at it. The figure was also glaring, for Viktor never smiled.

_Except for when he was with Hermione tonight_, Ron thought angrily, and once again the image of Viktor's arms around Hermione as they danced popped into his head. Ron flung the figure at the wall opposite him in anger. He lay down on his bed and sighed in frustration.

Then suddenly he had an idea.

Ron stood up once more, and walked over to the figure. Recalling once more the long arms he used to appreciate in Quidditch (_'that's the reason he is so good, he just stretches them arms out and then, BANG! Game's over_!' Ron remembered saying to his brothers… never again would he say a good word about Vicky) wrapped around Hermione, he grabbed an arm and pulled it off as roughly as he could. Ron grinned in satisfaction, and the monster roared contently. Ron grabbed the other arm and ripped it just as violently.

_There_, Ron thought, _now he can't put his arms around Hermione_. _And he can't win in Quidditch, and all his glory and admirers, including Hermione, will disappear._ Ron decided to leave the legs, hoping that Krum might step on Hermione's feet and Hermione gets so angry that she never wants to see him again. It was a long shot, and Hermione was really rather good natured (Ron smiled lovingly as he thought this), but it couldn't hurt to dream, right?

And so Ron fell asleep and dreamed. Dreamed that Hermione would seek him out and declare she loved him. Dreamed of kissing her, dreamed of asking her out.

The green-eyed monster inside him sighed peacefully.

It didn't hurt to dream, but it did hurt stopping the dream, as Ron painfully discovered the next morning. Waking up to find himself not kissing anyone, let alone Hermione, he finally realised that it was all just a dream. He didn't have Hermione. He never would.

He was just a crumb, after all.

**A/N Please review, tell me what you think :) I wrote this awhile ago, so I know the writing style isn't too good, but I don't think it's as bad as my really early ones, so I really want to know what you think of it.**


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